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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23022943">Unlucky</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SouthernKittyGal/pseuds/SouthernKittyGal'>SouthernKittyGal</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>30ish Days of Writing [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dead by Daylight (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cute, Fluff, Implied Relationship, M/M, Slow Burn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 12:22:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,739</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23022943</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SouthernKittyGal/pseuds/SouthernKittyGal</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael finds something new in a trial.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Michael Myers/Jake Park</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>30ish Days of Writing [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1654717</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>188</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>30ish Days of Writing</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi! Just a little disclaimer. This work is part of a writing challenge I'm doing with myself for the next 30ish days where I'll be posting something once a day, every day for a monthish as a means to try and improve my writing and just get myself writing again. So the following work is considerably rough draft-wise. I may come back and edit it later in the future. </p><p>The following is inspired by this artwork on tumblr:  https://shoozki.tumblr.com/post/185561685314/fear-michael-meowers-%CF%89</p><p>Have a fun read!<br/>(sorry for the strange beginning, it was gonna be a smut fic but then i really got into the idea of the tumblr post)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Michael had dealt with a lot. He’d been through many trials with the survivors, but really?</p><p>Making out in the middle of a trial? Did they not take him seriously or something? He cringed to himself at the little moan Kate let out and then huffed. He supposed if they were confident enough to do this, then they should be confident enough to get away. He left the bushes silently and struck his knife into the back of David, amused at Kate’s terrified scream. He struck a second time and picked up the weakened man, slinging him over his shoulder and marching off.</p><p>He struggled only a little to his destination as David wriggled on his shoulder. He slung him onto the hook like a sack of potatoes and was quick to cut his scream of pain short. Not for any sort of sadistic reasoning, he just found the screaming a bit annoying at times.</p><p>He supposed he might’ve just been a tad grouchy in general lately. </p><p>He slashed at the hooked survivor, this time just as a means of silent venting. He gave a deep sigh and marched off. A generator was completed in the distance. He started in that direction, figuring he might get lucky and happen across one of the scattering survivors. He was nearly there when he heard a small sound that gave him pause. He listened intently, eyes scanning the brush and walls. He started to quietly search the area, figuring maybe a wounded was hiding nearby.</p><p>Something shot out from the tall grass, and he started as if to give chase but paused.</p><p>It was much too small to be a survivor. Fast, too.</p><p>He started after it quickly now, more curious than anything. Could it be something new? An addition put in by the entity? Either way, he intended to acquire it for himself and see. He certainly didn’t need survivors getting their hands on something that’d make his job all the more difficult.</p><p>The small black thing kept running from distance to distance, finally hiding under a stack of cars. Michael moved over slowly, a bit cautious and ended up crouching to peer under the vehicles.</p><p>Bright golden eyes peered back at him, pupils pinpricks. A deep hiss came from the dark space. Michael tilted his head. He’d never seen any animals in this realm before - not besides crows and the rats that sometimes played along the hooks. He eyed the creature before rising and moving back. The last generator sounded in the distance. He’d been distracted far too long. He could already hear the alarms of one of the doors going off. If he didn’t go chase down the stragglers questions would come up. He could sense the faint hum of the hatch in the distance, not yet open but ready, waiting.</p><p>He marched off to it, checking the lockers nearby and then went to the door. The Kate and Ashley were already waiting. David must not have made it off the hook. Or he was at the other door. Michael started forward, sending the two rushing out the exit gate. He’d killed one earlier, he knew, but he hadn’t paid attention to what happened to David. He…. ever so faintly could sense someone at the other door, waiting for his arrival.</p><p>The map’s earth jumped with brighter glowing lines in it than before. The endgame collapse was already at halfway. He’d leave them to wait, enjoy these last few moments for himself. It was always interesting to be left in the endgame collapse. Watch the earth gradually break apart, as if this realm truly was a thin layer just above hell itself.</p><p>He wondered if the little thing at the cars would be impaled by the entity when the endgame collapse ended.</p><p>He was… curious to see, perhaps, what it was. His feet were already carrying him back towards the stack of cars he’d scrutinized before. He knelt and glanced under the vehicles. Nothing looked back at him. </p><p>He straightened with a huff, starting off towards the other gate to rush out the last survivor.</p><p>
  <i>Mew.</i>
</p><p>He paused at the little sound again, eyes scanning the ground and then noticed the little thing in a corner of two pallet-walls, huddled back from the long line of lava-ish hell seeping up in front of it.</p><p>Fear. It was afraid.</p><p>Creations of the entity didn’t show fear. This was… an animal from earth. But it didn’t register as a sacrifice. He would’ve sensed it. The entity would be telling him. Was the entity unaware of its presence?</p><p>It did look… rather small. Perhaps the entity couldn’t sense it’s presence?</p><p>Michael moved towards it, picking it up in his hands and eyeing it. It was furry and soft. It’s fur was poofed all over the place and it hissed at him again. He huffed, setting the thing in his pocket.</p><p>He’d never gotten a souvenir from a trial before. No killer had, actually. Souvenirs, or rather, items, were a thing only survivors got. The huntress had her hatchets, he supposed, though that was her weapon, so he felt it didn’t count. She always had hatchets with her, and was only allowed to have so many. But this was new. And he got it. It was his.</p><p>The little thing mew’d and he sensed the last survivor rush out the gates. Fog rolled around his ankles. He followed it into the darkness of his own home map, his resting place between trials.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I tried to have this chapter be put together a little bit cleaner than the prior chapter. Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Michael settled down in the bedroom (or rather, cell room) within his childhood home of his own realm with the furry thing in his pocket. He sank back into the cot, carefully fishing the furry thing out and eyeing it as it mewd out, looking up at him with large golden eyes. He slowly stroked down it’s purely black fur and then rubbed at its ear.</p><p>The little thing tilted it’s head into his hand. He did the same thing, slowly craning his head to the side in a show of curiosity as the furry thing began to give a soft rumbling.</p><p>It reminded Michael a little of the therapy dogs that were sometimes brought into his psychiatric hospital when he was younger, wearing blue and white vests and approaching kindly to lick at his hands. However, this thing was much smaller than a dog, and shaped differently. Also, it made different sounds than dogs did. He felt that he might know what this was, deep in his mind, on the tip of his tongue, but he also found he didn’t really care to know. It was of no importance, and made no difference to him.</p><p>Though he supposed…</p><p>The little thing began to crawl up the front of his clothing and he blinked, cradling a hand under it until it rested on his shoulder, seeming to settle there.</p><p>Michael… felt odd. On the one hand, he was extremely curious about this little thing. He wanted to know what it was, and, though it didn’t matter, maybe figure out how it got here. On the other hand, he was completely apathetic. There was no sense to trying to understand it. It was something he should just accept as being part of this strange realm.</p><p>However, figuring out his thoughts on the thing was ideal if he was to decide what he wanted to do with it.</p><p>It was small enough he could easily crush it in his hand. Though harming animals was never really his thing. They never did any wrong, and were so oblivious to the world that to kill them was meaningless in most cases. He could let it go, he figured, but if it stumbled into another killer he was sure they may not be so generous towards the furry thing’s life.</p><p>And again, his curiosity… It was incredibly small. If it was a baby, it would grow, and he wanted to know just how large. Could he train it to help him hunt killers?</p><p>Could this little thing actually be a gift from the entity?</p><p>He pet it’s little head, something about it’s gentle rumbling giving him the tiniest flicker of warmth inside.</p><p>He didn’t exactly want to keep it. Keeping it meant having to care for it, having to protect it and watch over it, and it meant having a weakness, a vulnerability. And that was never needed. Though, as much as he hated to admit such a thing (to himself, he didn’t exactly share his thoughts with others), it could get a bit… lonely. He was well accustomed to loneliness. It didn’t bother him <i>quite</i> as much as it used to, though once in a blue moon he found himself craving something. It was… hard for him to fully understand. He knew the empty feeling was loneliness, but the craving that accompanied it at times was… It could almost be described like grabbing at air over and over, expecting or wanting something where there was nothing. Sometimes this feeling ignited his anger, and those were usually the moments he was swept away into a trial.</p><p>If his anger could be used in a constructive way to serve the entity, then let it be so.</p><p>He stroked the creature’s head and then lifted it from his shoulder, laying back on his cot and propping his muddied boots up ashe set the thing on his stomach, stroking it. It seemed his best and only option was to keep it. He’d just have to watch himself that he didn’t get attached at all.</p><p>What all did animals need. Food, water, shelter. A memory played into his mind, foggy but present; rubbing a golden dog’s ears and the jingling of a charm hanging from it’s neck. The name inscribed into the metal.</p><p>Right. Names. Lately he’d only heard himself called The Shape by the other killers, and some of the survivors. He hadn’t heard his own name since being whisked into the entity’s realm. But he guessed naming something would be important. Especially if some issue ever arose and he needed to call his… creature.</p><p>Just in general, it might make mentally addressing it all the easier.</p><p>Michael lay in deep silence, pondering with his brows knit slightly under his mask and his fingers stroking along dark fur. He didn’t really know many names. He knew names of humans, but were names for creatures different than ones for humans? And he didn’t even know what this creature was - it could already have a name, for all he knew.</p><p>He watched it sleep, eyes creased up and the lil thing seeming to almost smile as it rested.</p><p>He could name it after its color. Though Black or Blackie sounded crude, and a tad childish. He considered where he was. The entity’s realm. Could he name it something related to the entity? Maybe Whisper? He glanced at his little companion and grunted. No, Whisper wasn’t quite right. What about…</p><p>Shadow. After how fast it moved before.</p><p>The more he thought on it, the more the name fit. Michael watched his prey from a distance. His little creature would join him. Together they would shadow their targets. It not only fit the qualities of his lil thing but the name felt personal. Possessive. Michael was a shadow. And now this thing would be his shadow. No one else’s. </p><p>His little, tiny Shadow.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Fair warning, this fanfiction will probably start to take a Jake/Michael Myer's relationship in it. May update story settings as we move forward.</p><p>Have a nice read and let me know your thoughts below in the comments! Thank you!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was hard to explain the feeling of a sharp knife filling your flesh like you were butter. It was hot, it was cold, it was sharp, it was intense. It numb, yet it was also a stinging, searing sensation about it Jake could never prepare himself to feel. He let out a cry as he hit the earth, grasping at the grass and chest heaving with panic and exhaustion. His heart pounded harder than his feet had when he was running for his life seconds ago.</p><p>Cold, strong hands hoisted him up onto a broad shoulder and he struggled, hitting at The Shape’s backside and kicking his legs. He could feel Michael’s grip slipping, muscles flexing around his waist as he held him closer, tighter. Two of his other teammates had already been sacrificed, and one was on his last legs, bleeding out on the other side of the map. If he could just wiggle free, they might have a chance… Almost, but to no avail as the hook ripped through flesh and muscle. He cried out from the top of his lungs, and gave a yelp and hiss as Michael’s knife tore across his chest. He whimpered, hanging weakly.</p><p>If the knife was painful, the hook was unbearable. He could feel the weight of his body sinking low towards the ground, the hook pulling against his flesh to hold him up. He grit his teeth, breathing hard to try and keep his head straight. He glanced up, noticing Michael’s hard eyes staring back. Jake settled his face into a hard scowl, glaring at the killer before his gaze drifted down to the movement in his pocket.</p><p>Michael Myers, the Shape, stalker, killer since childhood, had a little black kitten in his pocket.</p><p>“W-Where did you find that?” Jake managed out, trying to keep his voice from wobbling with pain.</p><p>The Shape only cocked his head to the side curiously before following Jake’s gaze to his pocket. He huffed and reached a hand up, gently nudging the little kitten back into his pocket.</p><p>Jake didn’t understand this. It didn’t make sense to him why, or how, one of the killers would have acquired a kitten in this desolate place. But Michael seemed to have some sort of connection with it - he must, to be keeping it close.  He struggled, calling, “Wait! Michael! How did you find th-” A cry of pain tore ragged from his throat as another cut slashed across his midsection. He grit his teeth, fighting back a whine of pain. He shifted, grasping the top of the hook and trying to lift himself up.</p><p>Michael just huffed at him, turning to disappear among the trees of the Red Forest, while the entity finished off the offered sacrifice.</p><p>Back at the campfire, Jake stared at the wood as the fire consumed it slowly. The survivors were sharing the experience of the most recent trial with everyone else and chatting it up softly nearby. Claudette was exploring the plants at the edge of the woods, having been experimenting with the idea of trying to grow specific plants.</p><p>Jake was content to sit on his own. The quiet around him was welcoming. Sometimes it weighed a little heavy, like now. He knew what the weight was; he was familiar with the aches it gave him. But it was something he preferred not to acknowledge. He was well aware that it wasn’t a weight he could get rid of.</p><p>Many people misunderstood Jake as lonely and sad, however this wasn’t the case. He chose his loneliness. Did he sometimes wish for a partner or friend? Who didn’t. However, he enjoyed having time to himself. It was quiet, peaceful, and many of the hobbies he took part in were meant for one person, not two.</p><p>It also allowed him plenty of space to think and mull over things to himself without someone prying. Embers floated upward from the fire and fizzled out into the air.</p><p>A kitten - Michael Myers had somehow gotten himself a little black kitten. How in the world did that manage to wander into here? If it had found a way in, did that mean there was a way out? Or did the entity allow it into this realm for some reason? But Jake had never heard of someone joining the survivors or killers in the middle of the trial, much less a small animal that typically wasn’t present in trials. And how… strange that a killer of all people would take a liking to it, especially Michael. Sure, there were stranger alternatives that could’ve played out. He can’t imagine Freddie having a liking for cats. But Michael…</p><p>Michael Myers never exhibited much emotion. Maybe slight curiosity, but really it was hard to tell anything with the mask on. Jake… had heard stories of his background from Laurie, but despite that he had to admit that of all the killers, he was most intrigued by Michael. There was no supposed reasoning behind his first initial murder, and afterwards he had spent the majority of his life in solitude, not by choice. It was hard to make much sense of how that exactly shaped the Shape, though it must not’ve been completely positive considering his present day actions.</p><p>There wasn’t much reason to think too much about it, and getting into the mind of a killer may not be the healthiest thing to do to begin with.</p><p>Still, it was just hard to understand… How someone could be so murderous and careless towards people and then show a sense of care towards something so small, so much less… cognitive than a human. Jake hummed, rubbing at the back of his neck where he felt his hair stand on end and straightened. Mist rolled around his wrists, seeming to guide his gaze, and he turned, scanning the hazy woods. It took a moment before he found the white latex mask a bit distant from him, watching quietly. He held the stony gaze for a long moment, mulling over if he should follow the mist into the woods, but… The creeping chill along his spine whispered danger, understandably, and really, walking into the woods with a killer didn’t seem like the wisest thought ever.</p><p>He chided himself for even considering such a thing. He eyed his pocket, cracking a dry smile at the little golden eyes peering back at him. It was a little nice to know something could survive happily in this upside-down hell. Jake settled back down onto the log, feeling the warmth of the fire on his back, trying to just, relax for the time being until the next trial would arrive.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>When you realize you've been missing something.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When you truly love someone, or something, you fight for it. That’s just the way of things. Michael had never loved anything, or anyone, before. He’d always been a solitary soul, and he was content with that to a degree. Sure, he had thoughts of <i>what if</i> sometimes but for the most part, he was happy with himself.</p><p>However he soon found himself opening up to the little thing in his pocket. Shadow was always quiet, like himself, aside from soft purrs and the occasional cry when something was wrong. He’d learned Shadow didn’t need to eat, which was good, however they didn’t seem to be growing much as a result. Which made sense to a particular degree - time didn’t appear to exist within the entity’s realm, and he or the other killers and survivors didn’t seem to show any signs of aging. </p><p>He fought the small urge to pet Shadow’s head. He’d resigned himself to carrying the little thing in his pocket, largely due to the thought of Shadow getting lost in his home map or, worse, stumbling across another killer. Luckily, Shadow was well enough behaved that they just stayed in his pocket calmly while he chased survivors down. Their ears perked sometimes when a survivor let out a scream and fell in the dirt, and they occasionally meowed when someone screamed out from the hook, but otherwise, Shadow was quiet and calm.</p><p>Their demeanor was more than perfect for Michael. Things like dogs, exciteable, playful creatures, took energy and lots of attention. And some cats could be rather feisty or talkative, or also exciteable like dogs. He just happened to get the perfect kitten. Their personalities complemented each other well.</p><p>Michael had gotten so lost in thought he’d almost lost his survivor. He did a full spin around, eyes searching, and caught glowing red scratch marks off the side of a tree. He started towards them, and sure enough, a survivor panicked and shot out from behind it. They started towards the debris and Michael was right on their heels. He went to slash at them and instead got a face full of wood, the pallet smacking him on the head with a squeak and crack, scraping against his forearms. He grunted out, rubbing his head for a short moment. A cold heat burned in the pit of his chest and he went around the debris to continue his chase.</p><p>The second generator lit up in the distance. Three left. The mocha girl - Michael didn’t know or care to know their names - looked towards it for a split second, her side running into a wall. It gave Michael all he needed to close the distance and down her. With a grunt and her useless wiggling, he hoisted her up onto a hook, settling back to watch the entity impale her. One down, three to go.</p><p>There was an explosion in the distance and Michael started towards it, keeping to the walls to stay out of sight of the other survivors as long as possible. One by one, he whittled them out. The muscled bearded man went after the mocha girl, there were some chases, some generators and plenty of healing sessions. With one generator left, Michael threw Feng Min onto a hook. As she was consumed, he heard the pounding of feet and heavy breaths from behind him, turning to look across the distance at a familiar Asian-American male. Had he given up?</p><p>The grass shifted with an almost invisible breeze and Jake caught his breath slowly, meeting eyes with the masked Shape. Michael eyed him back before glancing at his hands, the way he huddled his shirt to his chest. Michael sensed the hatch open in the distance.</p><p>The way he shifted his feet, his muscles tensed. He was ready to run. Yet he didn’t yet. If he knew where the hatch was he surely wouldn’t have come forward to him… No matter, the entity was whispering to his ears loudly, encouraging The Shape to complete his work. Michael started forward quickly and Jake jerked backwards, cradling his shirt closer to his chest, “W-Wait!” Jake continued backpedaling, stumbling and falling backward as the killer came forward. “Y-Your cat is gone!”</p><p>Michael twitched into a pause, squeezing the handle of his knife tightly before his free hand lifted to brush against his pocket. His fingers brushed empty air inside. There was no weight to the pocket. it was empty.</p><p>He pressed against his pocket firmer, looking away from Jake and down to his empty pocket before looking around, listening for small cries. He didn’t know what would happen if Shadow got left in an active trial, but it couldn’t be good, and he’d rather not find out. Though, his prey was right in front of him, such an easy hit. There was no reason he shouldn’t kill him now. He could down him, and then while he bled out go find Shadow.</p><p>Michael wound his arm back and- then his swing was cut short. A strong hand held his own arm in place, straining against the much larger man’s strength. This survivor… He’d never noticed his eyes before, but right now they burned with a raging intensity. Physically, the survivor may not have been strong, but more than enough strength shone in his eyes. Jake lifted his chin, eyeing Michael down like Jake was a king and Mike just happened to step out of place. The feeling was jarring and uncomfortable. Survivors didn’t give looks like this, not to killers. It was wrong. It was new. It was a challenge.</p><p>The realization gave Myers a strange buzzing in his chest.</p><p>Going against the hold was nothing to Michael. The survivors weren’t anywhere near as strong as him, especially with the advantages given to Michael by the entity. However, he stayed in place, mind running and processing this new and unusual behavior. Jake squeezed his wrist, shaking his head at The Shape before looking down. Following his gaze, Myers felt a small knot inside dissipate at the sight of his little black kitten in the survivor’s lap. Jake let him go as Michael pulled away, quick to scoop up the little thing and slip it back in his overalls pocket.</p><p>“They fell out when the pallet hit you earlier,” Jake hummed, moving back from the killer to put space between them now. Michael only pet the kitten in his pocket, watching the survivor and saying nothing, all while breathing heavy. It seemed enough for Jake to understand. “It’s no problem at all. I wouldn’t want it getting hurt.”</p><p>Michael huffed at him, rubbing Shadow’s ears a moment before he looked at the survivor and slowly moved back, giving him space. Jake blinked, and got up slowly, all the while watching The Shape. This close he could notice dark stubble under his jaw. “Can… We talk? Or- can, I ask some questions about your cat?”</p><p>Michael grunted under his breath and turned, starting to walk. Jake knit his brow before following the killer to the hatch. The ghostly crooning of it was almost as welcoming as the warm air it radiated. Jake looked up at The Shape and hesitated before moving close. Michael held his ground, frowning under his mask as Jake reached over and pet under Shadow’s chin. “Do you know what their gender is yet?”</p><p>Michael blinked at him.</p><p>“I could check?”</p><p>A soft huff in response. Jake nodded, “Alright. Well, uhm…. I… have a lot of questions. But, uh, if you end up needing help caring for them or anything just let me know. I had a few cats back at home.”</p><p>Michael eyed him and gave the tiniest nod. He might be a survivor, but that meant he had connections. He might actually know something about cats.  …As if he would ever get help from a survivor though.</p><p>Jake hesitated and moved forward a little. Michael tensed, eyeing him as he slowly reached over and pet the little kitten in Michael’s chest pocket. “Do… you have a name for them yet?”</p><p>Myers shifted his feet and moved forward a little, able to hear the pounding of Jake’s heart as he did, feel his breathing pick up. They both were curious of each other, but they also were both wary, rightfully cautious. He lifted his knife, pausing when the boy’s body tensed and locked up. Michael huffed at him and used his knife to gesture to the dark casting behind him.</p><p>It seemed to take a moment to process before Jake’s eyes lit up. “Shadow.”</p><p>Said kitten’s ears perked at the name as Michael moved to enjoy his own personal space again. Michael cocked his head as Jake smiled. He hadn’t seen that expression before - or at least, not in a very, very long time. It made Jake’s eyes crease and the light reflecting off them almost glimmer. Seeing such genuine warmth on someone was foreign. Growing up, people would enter his barren “bedroom” at the psychiatric hospital with smiles when he was younger, but it was never like this. It was always distant, but this felt…  He looked… </p><p>The killer had a strange lightweight feeling entering his gut, and he had to actually check to make sure it wasn’t the kitten climbing down his body, or the survivor touching him. When he saw nothing, it only furthered his confusion. Was he going to throw up? Was he infected with something?</p><p>Of course. If he got something new to benefit him, it was only fair the entity balance it out and give the survivors something extra when going against him. He had to have been infected with something. This had to be a new perk. A survivor makes that face and it makes him sick.</p><p>He let out a deep growl, making Jake jerk back towards the hatch, and then plunged his knife into his own stomach.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hi everyone! Thanks for reading! Sorry I haven't updated lately. I definitely plan to make up for the few days lost writing during spring break. This right here is almost two days worth of writing. I also fixed a couple small things in the first chapter to make it less cringy at the very beginning, but nothing's changed that effects the plot or story. Let me know what you think in the comments and thank you for reading along so far!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The line between rival and ally can become easily blurred.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jake’s eyes were wide as red started to darken The Shape’s navy jumper. The Shape stabbed himself again, grunting, and then let out a low wheeze, the sound a mix between relieved and strained. He looked up towards him, blinking emotionlessly, and then lightly nodded his head away towards where they both knew the hatch was.</p><p>“You’re- Why would you-?! What the actual fuck? wHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?!” It had been such a nice moment too. Getting to relax, pet the little kitten without (much) fear… It’d been relaxing. A bit of a pleasant getaway from everything Jake had to endure in light of the entity. And… Now Myers was stabbing himself? Did the entity need to be pleased that badly?</p><p>Was Jake’s prolonged presence distressing?</p><p>“I- I should help you…. I can help you,” he murmured, hands reaching out shakily towards Myers who grunted, smacking them away and jerking his head to the side again.</p><p>Jake shifted his feet before nodding. He ran off and then stumbled a little to a stop. The shape… If the entity was pressuring The Shape that much to hurt him that he’d attack himself instead…  Myers was really going out of his way to do his job while also sacrificing himself.</p><p>A warmth filled Jake’s chest and he turned, waving, “Thank you!” He flashed a grin and then ran off as quick as he could, jumping with confidence into the pitch black.</p><p>And since then… Going into trials with Michael had always been a little bit more of a delight. Of course, he still had to do his job. He still attacked Jake at times, and Jake had to do his best to not take it personal and accept it as part of this new, unwanted life. However, they’d often find times they ran into each other where, if Michael was between survivors, Jake would get his attention from a distance and ask to just chat, maybe take the chance to pet Shadow a bit.</p><p>It worked less often than he’d like. Slowly, he was beginning to come to the theory that perhaps the killer was in a completely different mindset during the trials. While Jake had never met him outside the trials, he was sure Michael didn’t run around wherever he stayed lusting for blood 24/7. It was taking time to recognize when it was a safe time to try and approach Michael.</p><p>There were key differences. When Michael was deep into his bloodlust, he had a different aura about him. He was still calm, still emotionless, but he was more tense, more alert. It was like he was constantly thinking about what steps to take next in order to corner and down his prey. Michael’s eyes also seemed darker. Granted, they always had a shadow to them when he was wearing the mask, but something about them changed when he was mid-hunt. They were so dark that when he looked in his direction, every hair stood on end. </p><p>Jake constantly had to exercise caution when trying to approach Michael. Michael also seemed to have a fascination with his favorite kitchen knife and glinting light off of it. If his grip seemed tight and the light shone off it, it was definitely better to keep a distance. However, to try and interact with Michael, Jake had to pull him out of his stalker mode. That meant approaching him when Michael was most dangerous.</p><p>There were things Jake was also learning worked positively in his favor for that. The first time, he’d come out slowly, crouched low and his hands up. Michael had started his way almost like a predatory mountain lion. Following, Jake tried running at Michael. Jake still cringed from the mori that’d led to.</p><p>However, calling his name softly, standing as tall and confident as possible. It got his attention in a way that almost startled him every time, without triggering any sort of predatory instincts.</p><p>Michael would look his way and stare, tense in place, and Jake would speak softly, using his name, and would ask how Shadow was doing, how Michael was doing. Michael never replied, but as Jake’s soft voice reached him he would slowly seem to ease. Then Jake would approach slowly, making one-sided verbal conversation and smiling as he’d watch the killer slowly open up to him.</p><p>The end of a trial was always the most difficult part, though. It was either be killed or manage to escape - the same old goals as always. They went back and forth, and there seemed to be a silent understanding. This was just part of the natural way of things, and it was only fair. Jake, as much as he’d like to, couldn’t be allowed to leave every single Myers trial, and Michael had a job to do. Being kind enough to let him escape was always appreciated, though.</p><p>This time, Myers grabbed his wrist before he went to hop through the hatch, and Jake looked to him.</p><p>Myers gathered the very small black kitten out of his pocket and stroked their head before holding them out towards Jake. The survivor’s eyes widened, taking Shadow slowly, “Are- Are you sure?”</p><p>Myers only let out a deep, sighing breath, and Jake cracked a grin, cradling the little kitten close, “Thank you… I’ll keep them safe until the next time I see you.”</p><p>Myers lifted his knife, tilting his head down and leaning towards the survivor. Jake’s eyes grew wide, but not from fear. Michael breathed deeply and Jake hesitated before leaning back up. He closed the space and locked lips with the cool latex lips of Myer’s mask.</p><p>It only lasted a second.</p><p>Michael jerked back a little, startling Jake as much as Myers already was. Jake’s eyes cut to the raised knife and realized he’d misunderstood. “oh- Oh god! I’m so sorry-! I thought- I thought you were- I-I didn’t see your- I got confused, I’m so sorry!”</p><p>Myers huffed lowly. His threat to protect the kitten had been horribly misconstrued, and as a result, nonthreatening. He cocked his head a little, grunting under his breath.</p><p>“I-I’ll keep Shadow safe, I promise,” Jake nodded quickly, entire face burning, “I’m- I’m so sorry, I’m sorry. I’ll- uhm, o-Okay, thanks! Bye!” He jumped into the hatch quickly as the lines of lava in the ground grew thicker.</p><p>Michael shifted his feet, touching the lips of his mask with a frown underneath. How….. bizarre.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry for the long wait, and if the chapter reads as sorta 'eh.' I've been a bit busy with moving between towns and starting a new job so my times to write have been sort of awkward lol. I hope the chapter's okay! Let me know your good/bad thoughts in the comments and what you might hope to see in the future! Until the next chapter friends! &lt;3</p>
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